The Morgue,  July 29, '79
My dear Taylor:
Your letter - it was "long, long,
long in the way" - leapt in my waiting
arms last night, and made me glad.
I was too busy to answer then, and
am too hurried, flurried and worried
with a lot of kickshaw-work to
answer now, but I am going to
lay my iron hand on a wriggling
moment to tell you that I love
you - and you needn't take my
word for it; but ask Doctor
Cooper.  I have thought about
you many, many times, and wanted
you with me.  You were here
so short a time - I tried to
express it in the little poem,
but didn't half - though I am
delighted to know you heard
my voice in it , at least.
Did you ever fancy yourself
a fish - kindo' comfortably swimmin'
along under - say about four-inch
ice, nosin' around for an air-
hole or something, and suddenly







have some fellow spang the butt
of a six-pound ax just above
your bump of reservation? - Well,
that's something like the way I
felt reading that part of your letter
regarding your lecture on "Riley
the Poet" etc.  That was an awful
blow to me- positively, 'cause I,
like the rest of my fellow towns-
men, "Didn't think it was in me."
But God bless you for your good
words, and for the great, great
good your friendship does me.
I mustn't lose you! - Feel like
I need you, and will always.
The Tribune will be sent you-
and - here! - You must contribute
to it.  Will you?  The editors
know of you, and have asked
me to do the overture, and here
it is.  We have the best literary
people of the state in it - Riley's
in it, and he wants you with
him, then he will be glad core-deep.
In the meantime, the galumphing
John C. Walker has just completed





a po-em for the next issue, and
wants me to enclose it to the
low flat-lander, so look out!
You'll see it a week before the
public does, and I hope you'll
love it that much more.
Soon I'll be over in Illinois.
Expect to start for Effingham
and Robinson in a week, or
two at the farthest.  Are they
near you?  Got to get out and
raise some money, and have an
affair - a chance, rather, of work-
ing up a few readings out there.
Will you give me a line at
once?  Do you get my "Gym-
nastics?"  If not, write me that
you want 'em, and they're yours
as am I - till death!
J. W. Riley